Recovery
by HinnyandRomione4ever
Summary: It's been a long, hard year for Harry Potter. He thought his life was going to stay like this forever as he started to give up hope that he'd ever find happiness again. But, a life changing discovery comes out of the blue, and now Harry and his fellow aurors have to reopen a recently closed case and this time find out who did this. And yet, two people still have to recover. T
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey! Welcome to my new story. I know you think I already have three going and I haven't been great at updating them lately but I have important announcements to make.**

**Unfortunately, I wasn't getting a great audience for 'Reaching Limits' so i decided to discontinue it. I may restart it after I rethink the plot.**

**I've been working on this for a couple months now, and I think it will break my heart if it ends up like Reaching Limits did. But, I have a good feeling about this story. To Make Life More Complicated will be updated soon and so will As Time Flies By. They will be updated sometime after I'm out of school. **

**But, anyway, welcome to Recovery, a story of love and determination. Join Harry through a chaotic year. Enjoy!**

* * *

I walk into St. Mungo's completely oblivious to the people staring at me; over these past few weeks, I've started to get used to the new uproar that now had my name in all the headlines. Of course, I've seemed to be in many headlines since the war, but none of the stories have struck the public like this one.

"_Harry Potter Reunited With Lost Love!"_

"_Harry Potter and His M.I.A Girlfriend Together Again!"_

"_Chosen One's Chosen One back from the dead!"_

I roll my eyes at the words that the _Daily Prophet_ calls news. They made it seem like a dream come true, when really it's a nightmare. The press, the healers, the public, and my boss are all up to my neck with questions, asking me what to do about the current situation, when really I haven't even gotten the chance to have it be properly sunken in yet.

I walk into the elevator, that is almost identical to the ones in the Ministry, and push the button labeled, '_Level C_.' Yes; that's right, the mental rehabilitation level of St. Mungo's. This level has been my life since the second I entered the hospital twenty-three days ago.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, here for lunch, again?" One of the healers, Madame Richard, asks as she pulls out my visitors pass. They've started to expect me in the mornings, at lunchtime, and at night when I visit here to see how everything is going.

"Yes, I am. Has she eaten yet?" I ask. The healer smiles at me and shakes her head.

"Follow me, Mr. Potter."

I follow the frumpy, old woman like I have been since the fifteenth of July. I know where I'm going, but I let the old healer lead me anyway. She stops in front of the door with my girl—well where her name is. I would call her my girlfriend but right now we're at a stand still since the healers have given her potions that cause her not to remember me.

"Alright, you have one hour, then I have to give her the medication." The healer says before opening the door.

* * *

I guess I should probably backtrack for you. It's a bit of an odd spot to start the story at. I guess I should start way back, about a year ago, when everything I knew started to slowly crumble in my hands…


	2. What Happened

I wake up in bed, smiling at the sight that I see; my girlfriend, Ginny Weasley, is sleeping next to me with the covers tightened to her chest. She looks so peaceful with a slight smile playing on her face.

What did I do to deserve a girl like her? She's everything I want and more. As she startles a little and slowly opens her eyes, I smile like I always do.

"Hey, you." She whispers, rubbing the sleep out of her right eye.

"Good morning." I say before gathering her in my arms and kissing her in her hair. She giggles like she always does when I do this in the morning.

We had been living together for the past four months, even though Ron had complained that Ginny was too young to be living in the same space as her boyfriend. In the back of my mind, I feel a little guilty for not listening to him but then I remember how incredible these past few months have been and I start to not care what he thinks. I think Ginny implanted that in me; the power to stop caring, it still feels foreign.

Ginny sits up and stretches her shoulders a little.

"What do you want for breakfast?" She asks as she starts to yawn.

"It doesn't matter." I say. She glares at me; she hates it when I answer with, 'I don't care,' or, 'it doesn't matter,' because she doesn't like to make a decision for me.

After she leaves, I slowly get dressed and brush my teeth, noting the fact that I need to shave but pushing it aside for one more day. How Ginny could live with me is beyond me.

I walk into the kitchen and find her sitting at the table with a piece of toast in hand. Across from her sits a piece for me, I never expect a grand, eccentric breakfast because she doesn't have the patience to cook in the morning.

Beside the piece of toast sits the _Daily Prophet, _as I sit, I push it aside; I never care about what they write anymore. Rita Skeeter was promoted to senior corporate for the _Prophet _about six months ago; and since then the paper has gone down hill, causing it to be more of a trashy gossip column than a reliable news source. I've been waiting for the Ministry to intervene but they have bigger gnomes to throw than shut down Rita Skeeter's unneeded writings.

Ginny, of course, sits with _Which Broomstick _in hand, like every morning. I never understood how she could sit and read the same copy of that magazine every morning until the new edition gets delivered once a month.

So if you're wondering, life has been finally normal for me. I have a job, a girlfriend, a home, a grouchy house elf and, well, a life outside saving the world.

Ginny finishes her toast and smiles at me as I start mine.

"So, I know you're going to hate this, but practice is supposed to end late today…and of course, it's my night to polish the broomsticks." She says folding up the copy of her magazine.

"So, you'll get home even later. Don't worry; I understand, you're not the one calling practice, so there's really nothing you can do about it…just try and polish the broomsticks fast." I say, giving her a wink.

"Alright, fine," She says rolling her eyes, "I need to get ready, but I'll just be a second." She adds as she gets up from her stop and kisses my head.

I stare at her retreating figure reminiscing about the day she got her acceptance letter for the Holyhead Harpies. She was so excited then, and now, half way through her second season, as a professional Quidditch player, she's still as enthusiastic as she was about going to practice; even if it runs late.

I turn around, just in time to hear tapping at the window across the room. It's Athena, my new owl, well…sort of new; I got her about five months after the war to replace Hedwig. She's alright; a bit slower than Hedwig and a bit less outgoing but she's good. In a way, I sympathize for her; she'll never live up to the legacy of Hedwig and I think she knows that, even though she's a bird.

I open the window to let her in, grab the letters from her foot, give her a few pumpkin treats, and then return to the table.

Ginny returns, her hair tied back and her bag over her shoulder, "I'll be back around eight-thirty. Have a good day at work." She says kissing me on the cheek and turning around but, I grab her wrist before she could go far.

"If you're going to come home late; you can do better than that." I say, standing from my seat. She rolls her eyes then gives me a chaste kiss on the lips.

"See you later." She says, as she floos to the Harpies pitch.

Little did I know that that was going to be the last time I ever see her for the next year, a month and six days.

At around midnight of that night, I remember tossing and turning because my girlfriend still hadn't returned home. And by four the next morning, I flooed to the Ministry and filed a missing person's claim.

**Name of missing person:**_ Ginevra Molly Weasley_

** Date of disappearance:**_ 9__th__ of June, 2001_

** Last seen at (Time and Place):**_ 8:30pm at the Holyhead Harpies' Pitch_

** Witness for answer above:**_ Gwenog Jones_

**Contact **_Harry Potter _**at **_12 Grimmauld Place _**if found.**


	3. The Boyfriend

That brings us back to present time, where I'm in front of Ginny's door in the mental rehabilitation center on 'Level C' of St Mungo's in London, England.

I open the door and find her sitting on her bed looking at the pictures in a children's book. She looks up at me and smiles.

"Hello, Harry." She greets me. I smile a little, as far as she knows, I'm just a distant family friend.

"Hey, Ginny," I reply, taking the seat that's beside her bed.

"Ginny? Harry, I thought we went over this, the healers told me my name is Ginevra." She says setting the book down.

"Oh, yeah; that's right, sorry." I say, I still can't stand what this hospital is doing to her.

After we found Ginny, they've been drugging her with heavy potions to help repress any serious, traumatic memories, helping her body heal its physical state before its mental state. The potion causes her to forget faces, names, backgrounds or anything dealing with a personal life. But she can remember how to brush her teeth, or perform a spell because it's a different part of the brain that the potion does not reach.

"So, how has your morning been at the bakery?" Ginny asks.

"Fine." I say awkwardly. Another lie I had to tell her. The healers believe that if I tell her I'm an auror it may cause her to be suspicious and not trust my story of being a family friend.

"That's fun. Maybe you can take me there when they let me out of here." She says excitedly. I nod and give her a slight smile.

"So, have you had any visitors today?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Yes, actually. I guess I have a friend named…uh…Luna? Yeah, Luna. She writes for a magazine with her father. And then a man named Bill and his wife, Fleur, came." She says before pausing, "Bill oddly looked like me…"

I sit still for a moment, what was I supposed to say? She was told that she was an only child, with a loving mother and father, both of whom she had met the first day they permitted visitors, and that she ended up there because of a freak accident that led to her having a serious head injury. The first time Mrs. Weasley visited was apparently dramatic, seeing her baby alive.

You see, after about eight months of looking with no leads on where she could have gone, no findings of magic produced by her wand, and no reports of an abnormal use of accidental magic, the Ministry announced that it was highly unlikely that she was still alive. The evidence just couldn't support her running away and if someone kidnapped her, then well, they would have taunted the ministry to get a reward or revenge of some kind.

I can still remember the week clearly, the announcement, Mrs. Weasley's reaction, everything. And about two months after that, I apparently was too depressed to function, so Ron and Hermione thought that it would help me recover and move on if I had someone by my side. So, they decided to give me a blind date with one of Hermione's coworkers. I, of course, wasn't let in on the plan.

So the night that I thought I was going to meet Ron and Hermione for drinks turned out to be a disaster after Caroline showed up and Hermione slyly invited her to sit with us, later ending with Ron and Hermione going to the bathroom and never returning and me awkwardly sitting alone with Caroline, too angry at my friends to speak. But back to Ginny.

I decide to leave the subject of Bill's appearance at rest by shrugging and telling her I wouldn't know.

"Do you want to play a game of chess?" She finally asks after about thirty seconds of pure, awkward silence.

"Sure." I say, smiling.

"Okay, Harry, but I have to warn you, I've been undefeated since I got here."

Yes, exactly, since she got here. Little does she know that I've played wizard's chess with her a million times and never lost. I guess I was that kind of boyfriend that didn't let his girlfriend win just because she was his girlfriend.

"Alright, I'm up for a challenge." I say, following her from her bed to her small desk that contains the chess board.

"Here, I'll put it down here and we'll play on the floor…unless that's not okay." She says, but I wave off her worries because I actually don't mind playing it on the floor, it's just like we're back at Hogwarts in the common room during my sixth year.

We played for a good half an hour, of course, against what I really wanted to do, I let her win at the last second. I couldn't ruin her undefeated title. That probably gained her some type of street credit in this facility.

"Mr. Potter, time's up." The frumpy healer from the front desk says after intruding on our fun of jokes and laughter.

"But, Madame Richard." Ginny argues.

"No, it's time for your potions." She says holding the door for me and letting in the other healer with a cart containing the four potions she needs to drink.

"Fine…Bye, Harry!" She calls before I'm completely out of hearing range.

"You know, Mr. Potter, your visits are helping her treatment, right?" I nod slightly, "When you're not here, she's constantly asking questions about her 'accident'. But when you are here, her mind is on some other cloud."

"Do you know when they'll stop giving her the potions?"

"It's hard to tell how fast the body can recover. But as soon as she's in good health, we'll take her off the potions and start to address her mental state. That will also include permission to answer any questions the auror department might have."

"Okay, thank you, Madame Richard."

"Any day, Mr. Potter."

I return back to the auror department, ready to look into Ginny's case. But, unfortunately, I was stopped by Ron, who has been bugging me with an endless vortex of questions. You see, Ron isn't allowed to visit Ginny because the healers believe that if too many ginger men keep coming to visit, she'll start to be suspicious. Along with Ron, George, and Percy aren't allowed to visit either. It's just the rules. Seems like everything will make her suspicious of the big, fat lie we had to tell her.

"She's the same as she's been for the past three weeks." I say, monotone. I haven't been sleeping well since we found her. All I can think about is her and her health.

"No improvement at all?" Ron asks.

"Well the scabs on her cheeks are gone, if that's what you're looking for." I don't mean to be so rude, but I can't help it at the moment. It's like I'm fifteen again.

"Did they say when they'll stop administering the potions?"

"No, just when she's back in decent health."

"Well my question is, what does 'decent health' mean anyway? There are millions of people with diseases and weight problems who don't do anything about it. There are people starving and dehydrated and are perfectly happy with themselves, and others who are living with unknown parasites in their stomachs. So what the bloody hell is 'decent health' if no one in the world has it?"

Ron does make a valid point, but I'm too tired and annoyed to compliment him, so I just give him a look of contempt and hope he gets the idea. He, unfortunately, notices my glare and rolls his eyes.

"Mate, if you're going to give me the stink eye, at least do it when you have a good reason to. Just because you're exhausted does not give you an excuse to be a complete kill-joy. We're going through this too, you know." I sigh.

"I know, but I'm just frustrated. Ginny is back in a mental institution while her captor is somewhere free and proud that they did it. They're probably watching us, laughing at the fact that we have neither leads nor evidence on anyone."

"Well, once St. Mungo's hurries their arses up, we'll get all that information after we question Ginny."

"The real question is whether Ginny will cooperate with answering questions about it, apparently when she woke up in intensive care, she went mad."

It took about three highly ranked healers to give her a sedative. And that's when they decided that 'EMR', or Emergency Mental Rehabilitation, would be the best option to help her recover.

"I'm sure all you'll have to do is look at her and she'll cave."

"But that's not fair to her. I keep thinking how ironic this month has been. I mean, when I dreamed about Ginny coming back, it was in a way that you see in an old fashioned muggle movie when the damsel in distress would come running into his arms, in perfect health. But I was foolish. She wasn't staying at a five star hotel; she was in the cellar of an old, abandoned shack, nearly unconscious."

"Life isn't fair, mate. But she's strong, if anyone had to go through something like this, the one person I can think of who would make it out alive is Ginny."

"I know." I say, he is completely right. Ginny is a whole lot stronger than anyone in the Wizarding world. If I could defeat Voldemort when I was seventeen, she can definitely make it through this with ease.

After the afternoon passes by of reviewing Ginny's file, I stop by St. Mungo's to visit Ginny before I go home. Of course, I follow the same routine I always do that ends with me following Madame Richard to Ginny's room.

This time, when I open the door, Ginny is unusually happy and looking out her window.

"Hey, Gin—I mean, Ginevra, what's going on?" I ask. She turns towards me and jumps out of her chair and hugs me.

"Oh, Harry, you'll never believe what an afternoon I've had."

"Really? Well, try me."

"Alright, well, Luna came by after you left, and we spoke for about an hour and I asked her what I was like before my accident, and she told me that I was a logical, independent woman with a stable career, and a _loyal boyfriend who actually still cares about me_!" She stops to take a deep breath at the same time when mine hitched.

"Oh, really…um…who is he?" I ask, trying to keep from giving away anything.

"She wouldn't tell me his name. She just said that he's extremely famous for his accomplishments as a teenager and he comes from a fine family."

"Well, uh, why hasn't he visited you?"

"She said that before I got my head injury, my boyfriend and I would try extra hard to keep the public appearances to a minimum so the press wouldn't write about us, so he's trying to do the same and he'll visit when I'm out of here."

"Oh," was all I could say at the moment.

"Yeah! Wait, Harry, could you by any chance find him for me? I mean you must know him with you being a family friend, and he's super famous so he couldn't be that hard to find. Tell him…I don't know; just tell him that I can't wait 'til he visits me." She says before plopping on her bed in a way a girl does when she's overwhelmed with excitement.

I gulp. If she only knew that her boyfriend is standing right here.

I take a seat in the chair in front of her desk and try to contain my fidgeting. She sits up and starts to ramble on,

"I bet he's gorgeously tan, with beautiful eyes. Maybe pretty blue ones." I look down at my hands, _Tan? No, _I think, _Blue eyes? Well, maybe with a bit of a yellow tint._ "He could have perfect teeth and an unbelievable body."

_Perfect teeth? What the hell does it take to have perfect teeth? I mean, mine are straight, and white…does that make them perfect? Unbelievable body? Um…I wouldn't know. _

I spend my next hour listening to Ginny go on and on about how she pictures her boyfriend to be like. Every characteristic more off than the next and my stomach starts to churn.

To be honest, I was a bit relieved when Madame Richard came and told us it was time for me to leave.

I visit Ginny that next morning, she's still thinking about her boyfriend and keeps asking me about him even though I keep answering her with the same answer of, 'I don't know; I don't know who he is.'

I leave an hour later with the same feeling that I had when I left last night. Before her accident, Ginny would tell me that I'm all she ever wanted; no matter what, she wouldn't change a thing about me from my green eyes to my awkward fidgeting I do when I'm thinking too much. But, you never know when someone's lying…or if they're unsure of what they really want. With Ginny on these potions, she speaks her mind. Her true feelings. And if she thinks that her loyal boyfriend is some fitness-addicted, model-looking, superstar with a _Scourgify-me_ _toothpaste _smile, then that must be what she dreams her guy to be. And that's not me.

Of course, her words haunt me throughout the day. I skip eating lunch entirely, and just sit at my desk pondering things over. I may be over thinking little things but I can't help it. When she said that she was 'sure that he was probably an excellent cook that made gourmet dinners every night,' I realized how different this man was from me. To be honest, it makes me question things.

By the time that the day turns to dusk, I have summoned the courage to go back and see Ginny, hopefully her 'boyfriend' will slip her mind after I bring her favorite Thai food to her.

I arrive at St. Mungo's at about seven-thirty. Madame Richard leads me to Ginny's room and gives me the rules as usual. Then finally, I open the door and walk inside Ginny's room. She's sitting on her bed holding a magazine that seems to be prehistoric. I set the food on her desk and she looks up at me with confusion.

"Why don't you come during lunch anymore?" She asks, not even greeting me first.

"Um, well these past few days have been crazy at the…uh…bakery." I say.

"Is there a big event coming up?" She asks.

"Not that I know of." I say awkwardly. She glances at the food and her confused expression doesn't fade away.

"What's in the bag?" She asks. Something is off with her.

"Um, Thai food…your parents told me that you like Thai food so I got you some." She nods and looks back at the magazine.

"What are you looking at?" I ask sitting down in my usual spot.

"Oh…uh…its nothing." She says closing it and throwing it under her cot.

"Doesn't look like nothing." I say glancing at the discarded paper.

"I was just looking at the pictures of the top music charts. Apparently the band, the Weird Sisters, is first on the charts." She says. But I look in her eyes. I know that look. It's that look she has when she's hiding something.

"So are we going to eat?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Sure…what did you bring?"

"Um, well, your mum told me that you like Chicken Valcano," that's a lie; I knew that after dating her for about two years, "So I got that for you. But, if you don't like it you can take some of my ginger soup."

"Thank you…it's nice to have something that doesn't taste like wet sawdust."

I hand her the take-out box and she starts eating, looking pretty satisfied once she takes her first bite. We eat in silence for a while. Something is definitely off with her. She seems unsure. Uneasy. She sets her takeout box down and looks at me for a second.

"Harry…" She says looking at me with her knees in her chest and her arms wrapped around them. I look up from my food.

She stares at me for a little bit, something about her expression tells me she has had a revelation of some sort. A revelation that scares her. Something she can't believe. But all at once, too fast for me to comprehend what's happening, she crashes her lips to mine. I freeze where I am, my eyes wide open. How could this be happening? She has her thoughts about her boyfriend…I mean, me…I mean, that man she…my mind is going a million directions at once and I can't come to a thought right now.

She pulls away with the same look she has been giving me since I got here.

"What?" She asks, after I sit silent for a few minutes.

"What…you just…I mean…wait…do you…" I still can't think straight, let alone create a sentence.

"I—uh—was going through a magazine…and—well—you're not a distant family friend are you?" She asks.

"I'm not," is all I can answer with.

"And you're not a baker."

"No." She pushes out a short breath and shakes her head with a slight smile on her face.

"You've been lying to me this entire time. Why?" I gulp.

"Because…well,"


	4. The Trunk

_"You've been lying to me this whole time. Why?" I gulp._

_"Because…well," _

I'm stuck. Trapped. The healers are going to kill me.

"Ginny, you're not here because of a freak accident." She looks at me confused.

"Yeah I am; I fell off my broom and hit my head when I got to the ground."

"No, you didn't…Ginny, you were…kidnapped about a year ago." She looks at me not convinced. But slowly, as the fact starts to sink into her mind, she starts to shake her head as her lip trembles.

"No." Her voice cracks. She squeezes her eyes closed as if she's trying to close out the world. "No, that's not true." She says as tears start to threaten her eyes. I sit there numb for a second. What else could I say to make her feel better? I'm such a lousy boyf—lousy friend.

I decide to get up and sit next to her. She jerks away as I start to rub her back.

"Don't touch me." She says scooting away.

"Ginny…" I whisper but she starts to talk to herself and rock back and forth.

"Stop calling me that! My name is Ginevra. I'm an only child with a friend named Luna and another named Bill. My mum and dad have visited me many times with different types of taffy as gifts. I'm here because I fell off my broom and got a serious head injury from it. And I have a loyal boyfriend, who happens to…"

But she wasn't able to finish. Her sudden outburst caused such a disturbance to the point where three healers slammed open the door with a sedative at the ready. Madame Richard, being one of them, points at me then motions me to come outside. I get up just as two healers grab Ginny's wrists and one extracts the syringe from the vile of sedative potions.

"What happened?" Madame Richard basically shouts at me.

"I came in and she was looking at a magazine and—"

"That's impossible. No patient is allowed to have any source of reading unless it is approved by the healers; all magazines are prohibited."

"Well then how did Ginny get a hold of a magazine?" I ask.

"She couldn't have. Unless a visitor left it with her."

"Well, how many visitors has she had today?" I ask, but Madame Richard shrugs, she turns on her heel and starts to travel to the front counter in the waiting area. I follow close behind. She picks up the visitor's sheet and reads down the list, searching for people who put 'Ginevra Weasley' as their patient. She rambles off names, "Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Bill Weasley, Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley…"

"No, I know none of them would leave anything like a magazine with Ginny."

"Well, the list isn't done yet," Madame Richard looks at me then rolls her eyes to return to the clipboard, "Um…Arthur Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Gwenog Jones, and then you."

I shake my head. I can trust all of those people. No way, did any of them leave a magazine with her.

"Alright, then how many people have had access to her room?"

"Mr. Potter, that's impossible to tell. Any employee of St. Mungo's has access to her room. Janitors, healers, medi-witches, secretaries, you name it. And every employee knows the rules and standards of every level in this hospital. I mean, everyone here has taken an oath." She finishes by slamming the clipboard back onto the counter.

I shake my head, "When are you going to take her off of these potions? Maybe if she could think for herself, she could tell us." I wince internally at how rude I'm being.

"I am not in charge of that. If you want her off of those potions so badly, you need to get her parents to vouch for her by signing a few papers, and giving permission to the healer in charge of Ms. Weasley." She says before walking off.

I ponder for a moment about what the appropriate action would be to go about this. The only thing I can think of is going to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and asking them.

I quickly make my way out into the general waiting room on Level A of St. Mungo's. I don't even acknowledge the witch at the front desk's lazy, _'Have a nice day,' _before flooing to the Burrow.

* * *

When I arrive in the living room of the Burrow, I hear Mrs. Weasley's voice say something along the lines of, '_I'll be with you in a minute'_ coming from the kitchen. Of course, I stay put for her to greet me, even though after years and years of me staying here she has told me that I should just feel free to come in on my own.

She walks into the living room with an apron tied over her long, floral dress.

"Harry! Glad to finally see you come around!" She says before pulling me into one of her crushing hugs, "I know you've been busy with work and well, Ginny's reappearance, but that does not excuse you from missing the family dinners." She says patting my cheek.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley."

"Mum, Harry."

"Sorry, Mum. But I've needed time to think."

"Well, you can think before the Sunday dinners, and then after. Thinking isn't a good enough excuse, Harry." She says before leading me into the kitchen. I listen closely as she mumbles, "You'd think out of all my sons, you'd be the one who'd come more often. You look even more peaky than you did before."

"Um, Mrs—Mum, events have just occurred at St. Mungo's." I say taking the mug of tea she shoved in my hands. She looks up at me; face starting to flush, and sits down at the table. I take a seat across from her, and set the mug down.

"What? Is Ginny okay?"

"Um, that's debatable. I came to have dinner with her, but when I came in she had a magazine. I didn't think much about it at first but then she suddenly looked at me and basically told me that I was her boyfriend, and then, well, she kissed me, and asked why we've lied to her. So, I was cornered, even though I shouldn't have, I told her that she wasn't there because of an accident. I'm really sorry. She started freaking out and yelling and shaking. And they came in and shot her with a sedative."

"Do they know where the magazine came from?"

"No, everyone who visited today wouldn't have given her even a peak at an old magazine, especially one with a picture of us displayed on the front."

"So, is that why you came here?"

"Well, I feel as though she's about as physically healed as she's ever been, considering everything that's happened to her as a Quidditch Player. And even though I know that there's going to be a break down, I feel as though it's going to be less traumatizing the sooner they get her off of those blasted potions." She glances down at her tea and takes a deep breath.

"Let me get Arthur, he has a right to have a say in this." She says before getting up. I nod, and stand up as well. She already knows why. I walk over to the counter and look out the window.

The thing about the kitchen windows is that they have a perfect view of the field that is behind the Weasley home. And in the very back of the field, two blocks of marble stand up with pride. Both with names and epitaphs of the people who lie there. But that's not entirely true. The one on the right, made of grey marble, does have the person buried beneath it, but the other one doesn't.

I'm sure you've figured it out by now. The right one is for Fred, it was created right after the battle. But I don't want to get into that and relive the day it was constructed. But the left one is Ginny's. Sort of. Since we didn't have Ginny's physical body, we buried a trunk with items that meant a lot to us; things that represented what Ginny was. And well, the item that I chose means more to me than anything in the world.

Now, I've never told anyone directly what the artifact was after her disappearance. So you should feel lucky that I'm even telling you this. As everyone in the Wizarding world knows, Ginny and I were dating, and had been for a long time. There was no doubt in my mind that I was in love with her. Heels over head—or head over heels, madly in love with her. So, after months and months of me pondering over what lied ahead, I finally set a date.

Ginny went missing on a Thursday, I'll never forget that. Mainly because on the Saturday after that, I had planned on surprising Ginny with a special gift. A proposal. But, of course, Ginny was kidnapped. And I never got the chance. I remember lying in bed with the box on my night stand taunting me. Slapping me in the face over and over. Telling me that I'd never get the chance to put it on Ginny's left ring finger.

And when the funeral, or celebration of life, as Luna called it, came, I put the box in the trunk along with a note, a note that's extremely personal and I'm not planning on sharing. The only reason Mrs. Weasley knows about it is because I asked Mr. Weasley permission to propose to Ginny about a month before the planned date. And I'm sure he had told her after everything unfolded.

Now, my attention is being redirected to a hand that was just put on my shoulder. I turn around to see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looking at me with worried eyes. Worried about Ginny. Not so much me.

"Harry, what do you need us for?" Mr. Weasley asks.

"Well," in times like these, Mr. Weasley intimidates me to the max, "I believe that Ginny shouldn't be on the potions any longer. I mean, the longer she's on them, the more dramatic it will be for her when she's taken off of them." I say then gulp.

"Arthur, I think Harry has a point. When we visited her today, she seemed perfectly healthy. If anything, I think the healers are just scared of the moment when Ginny remembers everything. Afraid of the disturbance and the madness to come." Mrs. Weasley says taking his arm.

Mr. Weasley takes a breath and glances at Harry, "You're right. The sooner the better."


End file.
